


Not The Time, Love

by besthokage



Category: DPD - Fandom, Detroit Becomes Human, Video Games - Fandom
Genre: Angst, But you can replace rk800 with rk900, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Gen, It’s just rk800 x reader, M/M, Marriage Troubles, Other, smut if you squint, uwu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-08-22 10:55:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16596542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/besthokage/pseuds/besthokage
Summary: “You would rather hold papers than me at night.”





	Not The Time, Love

**Author's Note:**

> Pls kudos and comment. Really helps out!

“Come to bed.” A soft whisper followed by a kiss presses to your neck. “Come to bed.” Repeated, a desperate plea lingers in tone, entrancing you, almost immediately forget the importance of your work, but as you glance back at the lit screen unfortunately, it does not.

“I can’t.” You respond equally as soft, not wanting to spoil the moment, though it’s bound to happen with the way your relationship is going. 

His smile falters at the rejection, arms enclosed around your body loosening but not yet releasing its grip. Well that’s a good thing, maybe you just might not have to argue for once in this tension filled relationship.

“You’ve been working so hard. You deserve a break.” He ignores your rejection, nuzzling his nose affectionately in your neck. “I promise I’ll let you work yourself nearly to death tomorrow if you please spend the night with me.” 

Ah, negotiations. Despite leaving the DPD a few years ago, he still can’t drop his habit of it. Some might find it quite annoying but you find it endearing, a wonderful quirk that adds to his already eccentric personality.

“Baby..” You mumble softly, hesitate to reject him once more, after all this is the most patient he has been about the situation in months. “This project threatens my position in office. It needs to be absolutely perfect or-“ 

“Ssshhh.” So soft and wispy, a tone to not build up confrontation but not yet understanding. A tone of abandonment, to lock in a closet or store until remembered, if wanting to remember. “I understand. But I miss the love of life. You have been doing absolutely wonderful but I want the person I married to hold me in their arms and not their papers.” His arms like silk moves slowly to cup your worried cheeks, squeezing softly as he speaks. “Don’t tell me I’m losing you to a computer screen.” 

You close your eyes softly, melting in his gentle embrace, longing for it, a constant quiet begging finally shutting its mouth the moment his touch met your body. “I-I can’t lose my job.” Your eyes forcefully opens up, pulling yourself away as gently as you can, focusing on the task at hand, typing once more. “I promise I’ll make it up to you-“ 

You freeze. The typing ceasing as you unblinkingly stare at the blank, once brightly lit screen. You finally blink, eyes trailing from the hollow black screen to a very pissed android swirling a cord that suspiciously looks like the lifeline of the now dead computer, just like the work you’ve been doing for the past 18 hours, gone in the deep abyss of software.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you. I promise I’ll make it up to you. I promise I’ll make it up to you-“ The same sentence played in different tones of your voice comes through his auto box, a searing look in his eyes. “The same words you’ve been reciting to me everyday for months.” He makes a pointed look, changing his voice module back to his own instead of pre recorded responses. 

“Connor, what the fuck?!” You scream out, finally regaining sense of the situation. Anger curls around you like a blanket, veins swelling up to your tensing and rashness of your movements as you stand abruptly. “Do you know how much work I’ve put into those? The amount of time and effort down the drain? Those are due in twelve hours and I have to redo everything plus what I hadn’t completed. How stupid can you be?!”

“I’m stupid?” His big brown eyes widen incredulously as he scoffs. “Yeah cause, I’m the putting hundreds of hours into work instead of our marriage. I’m the one sacrificing health for people that don’t give a single fuck at you as long as the work they want is completed and on time, and I’m the one ignoring ignoring their husbands physical and emotional needs as well as my own.” 

Despite trying his best to be as human as he would allow without it being an annoyance, there are still some android habits he follows that might creep out some people. For example, he didn’t sound necessarily upset with what he was (accurately) accusing. He sounded monotone, with a blank expression. But this is your husband, there are gestures you’ve picked up on that just makes everything worst. 

The clear and crispness of each syllable, the slight lean and narrowing of the eyes as if he’s interrogating a criminal, the way he unbuttons the first few plastic buttons on his shirt and cocks his head to the side as if daring to defy him. The signs are all there yet you wouldn’t know what to look for unless knowing from experience, and you have plenty. 

Plenty to know he is absolutely, utterly, pissed . 

Despite the anger still brewing inside you, you gulp as you lower your eyes to the floor. Of course you aren’t afraid of Connor harming you, he would never without clear permission. However this side of anger, you haven’t seen since a previous android tried to lure and sell you into- well, a very, very bad situation. But here you are presently, the anger directed to you. 

Fudge.

“I know things have been a little... heated recently however interfering with my bloody work will not solve our issues.” You try to say calmly, to be honest you should pat yourself on the back for not screaming at him some more. But that’s not how you two work. You’ve been together for far too long to constantly screaming at each other.

“Your work is our issue.” Connor reiterates. He walks closer to you, and you back up slowly, not really wanting to deal with him up close and personal at the moment. The work, oh my god the work you need to redo and complete! He must move, he has to, your job is on the line, what will you do? Such little time and so much work-

“Connor, move.” You snap viciously. Like a cornered, scared dog, you snarl at him, your heart pounding and hands shaking at your job position getting closer and closer to the borderline. “I have to redo everything you fucked up and more. You can berate and insult me all you want later but right now I need to-“

Your back meets the cool surface of the beige wall of Connor and yours shared home. He picked it out himself, proudly actually, one of the first decisions made as new homeowners, especially as an android, Ah yes he was beaming that day, so much he wouldn’t even let you help paint. The same wall he carefully drawn upon, now softly presses into it, staring intensely into your eyes, jaw locked, eyes unmoving and determined, lips pressed downward in constant disappointment. What a familiar sight.

“With the way you continuously treat our relationship, there will not be a later reoccurrence.” He says cooly, the look in his eyes and the tone of his voice heavily implying the promise. 

“W-What?” You whisper weakly. You can’t even help it when your legs buckles and you start to fall from shock but catch yourself before anything serious happens. Ten years you both have been together, and of course you both have been up and down but you both have never even once considered breaking up, and to hear him say those words-

Connor watches you patiently, the swirl of emotions that swap constantly in your expressions between processing, realizing, and enacting is something he’s always find fascinating but those are not one of those times. Instead he wants you to grasp the situation quite quickly or he’ll be out of there, quite quickly. 

“I said-“

“-You can’t leave me.” You blurt out, delirious as images of your entire relationship replays like 7x fast paced marathon, then shooting down right into the gutter. “You can’t do that, that’s not an option.” 

Connor raises a brow but does not speak, instead he motions to back up but your hands shoot to cling to his clothing, ignoring his startled expression. “What are you-“

“-You can’t leave me.” You whisper weak and broken, a desperate frantic expression on your face, hands shaking, looking like a physically representation of your life right now, in shambles. “Connor, I love you, only you. I don’t cheat, I don’t text other people, and did I say I love you a lot? I do, I really do, and I can show you how much right now that I love you. What do you need? Sex? Is that it? Will that make you happy? You can’t leave baby, no, no, not me, not now. Not after all we been through no, no...” You shake in your rambles, clinging harder and harder to his body despite his gentle attempts of trying to get you off of him.

You’ve never been good with ending relationships. Clinging to happy stable memories instead of the shattering hollow realities of the present. You just can’t. Aimlessly swatting to grasp those cloudy days of content-ness but have already blown with the wind. Your mentality has never been a strong point but, with the emotional support you’ve built through the years, you never needed to. However when a support wants to detach from the beautiful nest you’ve built them... You can’t cope, you have to to save it, preserve it. And with your husband, it’s no different- actually it is, it’s stronger than ever.

“G-Get off!” He raises his voice panicking from your crazed start, pushing you with enough force that your head slams against the wall which wasn’t far from the distance he was retracting from you. The previous frantic noises ceases with a small yelp when your head hits the beige wall, a small dent cradling your pounding head.

Brown eyes widen, darting to your side in seconds as he analyzes your condition and thanks his lucky stars you have nothing but a very, very mild case of an concussion. If you can even call it that, but you are unconscious so maybe he’s sugarcoating the words to make himself feel better for inflicting not only emotional but now physical pain to the love of his life. 

He shakes harshly, despite knowing he hasn’t injured you to the point of medical emergency, he still feels awful he hurt his lover, even if it’s not intentional.

Gently, with hesitation, he picks your form up, draws a warm bath, affectionately caressing the soft, silky skin while waiting, bathes you tenderly knowing from how long you worked that you haven’t done it in a while, then dresses in the comfiest clothing you tend to gear for, laying you propped up on the bed and under warm covers. 

Now normally, he’d shut down. Shut down into stasis mode and hook his start up with your heartbeats, to always awake with you, which logically he shouldn’t do incase you die in your sleep (but he would rather die with you rather than live a life without you.) 

Instead however, he stared down at you, his LED a deep slowly blinking red as he watched for any signs of life that wasn’t your constant breathing, only ever moving to change the cup of water and adjust your sleep position when you began to snore too deeply for his liking. And he watched and watched as the sun risen and set, when night settles, and the sun rises again, constantly staring, unmoving, with his blood red LED blinking slowing like a neon sign. 

That that’s when you shifted.

It was subtle, but it’s still movement. He finally blinks. And then your entire face scrunches up, he leans forward head right against your lips Incase you’re too weak to speak loudly and- you burped. A long, deep, drawn out burp that leaves you with a satisfied smile on your lips as you loosen your muscles and sink back into the bedding. 

“Humans.” He mutters distastefully. A deep brooding settling upon him.

“That’s what you get.” You say suddenly, opening an amused eye, a small smirking playing on your lips. 

Connor frowns but doesn’t say anything as he passes a room temperature glass of water and pills of various vitamins and pain killers in your direction, but feeds to you himself. 

You’re both sitting quietly, secretly enjoying the close proximity of each other since being away for so long. You, a little high from a well deserved nap, and him, constantly anxious waiting for you to call the cops and have him detached for harming you. 

“I’m sorry.” You blurt out, sitting up but wincing as your head throbs. “All you have been is a loving husband, and I haven’t been doing my duty in our marriage and promise to do better, to get to the old us- no, better us.” You promise, reaching for his hand that he quickly gives you so you don’t move to much, the consciousness makes you smile. “Please forgive me.” 

Connor shakes his head, biting his bottom lip as his grip of your hands tightens just a smidgen. “No, it is I who begs for your forgiveness. I harassed you for months about my selfish needs, and what I want and never considered just how important your job is to you. And in the end, harmed you. Which is absolutely inexcusable-“ 

“-Your needs are completely valid and I should have been there to satisfy them. And yes, I admit that my head hurts like a bitch but I know it wasn’t intentional and I freaked you out so please don’t kill yourself with guilt that I know you’re doing because you’re my husband and I know you too well.” You wag your finger playfully, a small smile crawling onto his lips. “Let’s forgive each other, and work together to be stronger in the future, hm?”

Connor nods frantically, carefully and hesitantly pulls you gently into his arms, holding you as tightly as you’ll let him, breathing a sigh of relief you won’t kill him or kick him out without making sure you’re entirely okay. 

“I didn’t destroy your progress.” Connor blurts out.

You frown in confusion. “Huh? What progression?” Is your headache making you forget events? Is it really that bad?

“On the computer.” Connor clarifies. “I saved a file in my hardware before pulling the plug, I would never destroy anything that means so much to you.” Connor says seriously, caressing the smoothness of your skin, breathing in your set, kamski, he’s missed you so much, his beautiful lover. 

“To hell with that job.” 

Connor brown eyes widen in disbelief as he pulls back slowly to look you in the eyes. “Pardon? Perhaps I should take you to the infirmary after all. Hold still as I contact the authorities.” Connor says seriously as he LED flickers yellow and you chuckle, hitting him softly. 

“I’m fine Connor.” You reassure. “If a job is gonna but a rift like this between us, it’s not worth it, ever. And I’ll make sure it’ll never will again. I promise.” You say seriously, staring into his chocolate-y brown orbs, so pure and trusting, looking at you as if you hold his world in your form. 

“I love you.” He says breathlessly, mere words mean nothing but his tone, his expression, his pure actions of affection, the words are so much more than words, it’s more than a declaration, but a promise.

“I love you too.” You reply honestly, smiling brightly at him. “Just needed some sense knocked back into me to fully realize it again.” You joke and giggle a bit. 

“Not the time my love, not the time.”


End file.
